Muggle Wizards
by Zanathir
Summary: How would you react, if a friend you had known for years suddenly decided to morph into a creature that only appeared in fantasy? Rated T for language, and to allow a bit of freedom.
1. Werewolf

Disclaimer: Harry Potter novels, incantations and anything related are property of J.K.Rowling. Werewolves are… not my property, but I don't think they're Rowling's property either, as I had heard of werewolves before Harry Potter. Any similarities between characters in this fiction and real life characters are entirely coincidence. Name, appearance etc. is entirely coincidence if it matches up to someone you know. I did not base any of my characters on anyone I know or have heard of.

A/N: You may find some spelling and grammar mistakes in this story, please don't comment on them as they were probably deliberate. I'm writing this story for fun, also like it was written by a year nine kid with not much regard for correct spelling and grammar. So read on, and let me know if it should be continued or deleted.

Chapter One:

Werewolf

Every story's gotta start somewhere. Even this one. So I'll start it by telling you about the main characters, like myself. My name, it's Daniel. Common enough. There really isn't much to tell about me, I mean, I'm fourteen years old, in year nine at school, not the smartest kid, or the stupidest... I play football, and hang out with my mates... I suppose it all really started before then, before year nine.

I think it really started in year seven, when we all changed schools. We all came from different primary schools, to this one high school. And from there, we kinda got to know each other and now we're best mates.

There's me, Daniel, and the other three are Rys, Jason and Ben. We all met in year seven, like I said before, and quickly became best mates through football. It's a very addictive game. We played Rugby Union for the school since year 7, hey still do. There isn't much to tell about any of us really, we're just the average year nine kids when it all started. Of course, no one is normal, or average. But we were way more normal then than any of us is now...

Ben is, always was, and most likely always will be, a computer nerd. He topped the class in computers every time, but he's a good guy and helps the rest of us out as much as he can. He totally sucks at English though, I mean, year nine and he still needs handwriting tutoring. He's not the average picture of a computer nerd - small, weedy kid with glasses - instead he's tall, like going on two metres,and has the maddest set of dreadlocks I've ever seen. He is extremely practical and logical, often we laugh at him for being too practical, but our English teacher says that it will be very useful in like year ten and over. For now though, he's totally lost in English, cause creative writing and stories is all they want from us.

Ben's so tall, the basketball coach at our school. Took one look at him and invited him to join the basketball team. Almost cried when Ben said it was Rugby for him, nothing else. God that teacher belongs in a mental institute or something, he's like obssesive about his sport; crying when some tall dreadlocked kid doesn't join the team. It's not healthy. Anyway, it's only basketball. And totally off subject; this story is about me, Ben, Rys and Jason. Not our mental sports teacher at all.

Jason's a thoughtful kid, he's good at maths, well, ok... he's heaps better than Ben, Rys or myself at it but that's not really saying much. In fact, I reckon he's more average than the rest of us put together. Average grades, interest, hobbies, friends... He reads to much though, too much for a normal kid anyway. And he's got interests thrown all over the place, like he knows a lot of random useless stuff about everything from powder puffs to atomic weapons.

He's obsessed, like more than most (which is saying something) about magic. He reads stuff like Harry potter, Earthsea, I mean, basically if it mentions magic he's in on it. And weapons. Swords, guns, arrows, nukes... you name it, he could probably give you a forty-five minute speech on it, unprepared. Well he could, if he didn't have the world's worst case of nerves.

Rys is an idiot by anyone's standards. He has like the worst grades in the school, simply cause he doesn't care about it. All he cares about is footy, and the day when he's old enough for cars and girls. On the side, out of it a bit, his parents make him do Karate, in the hope that it will give him more self-control, patience and coordination. I actually agree with them: Rys needs more patience, coordination and self-control.

At the moment he's this huge tank of a kid with the subelty (How do you even spell that word?) of Neville Longbottom. At first glance you'd probably think of calling him fat. Free advice: Don't. His lack of self-control may well ensure you end up down the drain. Literally. Anyway he's not fat. Just the right size and shape to barge through any lines without being tackled.

Back on the subject of Karate; it's actually a pretty important subject for this story. Rys walks the ten minutes every thursday night from his place to the local hall, where Karate is held. Rys also lives in the largest house out of all of us. He's got a huge yard, too. We often go over there and practice rugby. His family is real rich, probably cause he's the only kid they got to feed.

Me? Well hi there, I'm Daniel. I'm the spok who actually likes English. Not at the top, not ever, but always staying a safe second or third best in the subject. And I actually like it... different from most of the year. I'm as normal as the next man is... I love reading though, and read everything Jason shoves in front of me. All that stuff about magic... I sit in class or at home or somewhere anytime and imagine how coolness it would be if it were real. And I make it real. I make stories in my head, normally with me, Ben, Jason and Rys in it. And magic. And staffs, and wands, incantations, spells, crazy mythical creatures... I'm a pretty good writer, too though I say it myself. Probably the reason why I volunteered to write this story.

So... now you know who we are exactly; reckon you could look around you and select four identical people. This story really begins with Rys, because he knew exactly what was what about a month before the rest of us did. I'm not Rys, I wasn't there, I didn't see, didn't feel. I only know what he told us later about the event.

Thursday night, late. Rys was walking home from Karate, same like he's done for the past year and a bit. It was dark, but that's ok; something's seriously wrong if it's light at this time of the night and year. I mean, ok, shut up it's not purely dark or else Rys wouldn't be able to see the way home. But it's still dark. Too dark to recognise anyone or thing that's in the shadows away from the street lights. And he's almost home, like half a block off or something like that.

And then like he said, a strange dog runs out of nowhere and bites him. It jumps on Rys, knocks him down and bites him on the shoulder. Rys is so surprised that he just lies there until the dog gets off him and runs into the shadows again. He doesn't get a good look at the dog, it happened so quick and was also dark...

He contined home, and looked at his shoulder in the bathroom mirror. He explains to his parents that a dog bit him, which was enough to convince them to drive him to and from Karate every Thrusday from now on. No one thinks it serious enough for the hospital, so doctors don't get a look at it... Anyway the bite is mostly healed in a few weeks.

It's like a month after Rys has been bitten, and we're all at his house. It's like late at night at raining outside. We're serious footballers but the darkness and rain would be enough to put like ninty percent of all football players off. And the other ten percent would be like the guys on TV who can't call it off cause half the state has it orginised and in their calenders.

Anyways... we couldn't play footy, so that's what we talked about instead. I think. I'm not really sure. Good hell, you expect me to remember everything we ever talked about? And don't you tell me to do my research; we were the only four kids there and none of us really remembers what we were talking about. So I dunno where the heck i was supposed to research what we were talking about that night... but it's pretty safe to go footy, cause we normally talk about football.

So yeah. We were inside Rys's house, and we got it for the weekend. Rys's parents are at some camp or... I dunno, probably not camp camp, cause it's with Rys's father's work and I'm pretty sure that they're not camping. Probably in cabins or somthing, in a really cold climate with heating inside the airtight cabins. I'm not sure where they went really, and I don't care neither. They're not my parents... even if they were, all I'd care about would be getting the house to myself for the weekend.

Ok, ok... I'm getting off topic. This is the forth paragraph... Ok... here goes. So we're all inside Rys's house right, and talking about something, proabably something related to the football. And this gust of wind blows the curtains aside, letting in the silver moonlight. There was a lot of silver moonlight; in that little area near the window it drowned out the golden light from the electric lighting installed in most houses.

Must've been a pretty big gust of wind, cause we all turned to look at the curtains. I remember well Jason I think it was saying, "Hey it's full moon." Well, that made sense... it had to have been a pretty darn big moon to give all that light... that or someguy outside holding a bright white light. And what maniac would stand outside Rys's unimportant house shining a bright light into it's windows, in weather like this?

So we're all staring at the flappy curtains and the small patch of moonlight... and somewhere behind me I hear this really weird sound... Something like Ben's cat Cookie reow-ing when it's not happy. Which is pretty often, that cat's a bitch. Just don't tell Ben I said that, he thinks the world of that cat.

I'm saying the sound behind me sounded something like Ben's cat, but it really sounded like nothing I've ever heard before. Try picturing Cookie letting off an irritated Reow... and a little kid at the dentists being told to say 'Aaahh', and saying it heaps louder than he should, give 'em all a bad case of Bronchitis... And you've got basically what I heard that night.

So I heard this really weird sound, and immediently decided that it was more interesting than flapping curtains and a patch of moonlight. I turned around, and saw pretty easily where the sound was coming from. Everything in the room was normal... except Rys. He was like on his back, and there were convulsions shuddering his whole body. His mouth was wide open, and I'm pretty sure that the strange sound, it was coming from his throat. I quickly glanced at Ben and Jason, and saw them both glued to Rys, in exactly the same way as most people are glued to the TV when grand season finals are on, Wallabies vs. All Blacks or Springboks.

I turned back to stare at Rys, who jerked his arm, don't ask me which, towards us in a real fast and unatural way. The movement in his hand made me look at it, and not at his face. His hand was changing. Don't laugh, there's no other way to describe it... it was growing longer and thinner, and his nails were blackening and turning into triangular points on his fingers.

And Rys is still releasing this insanely unreal noise, when we notice that it's not just his hand that was changing. His feet... they're changing, becoming thinner, longer, and different angled...

"RUN!" Jason's voice cuts across Rys's sounds, for lack of better terms I'll call them howls. Anyways, Jason says run, and we do. Me and Ben jump up faster than Jack in his box and chase after Jason, who's already sprinting towards the stairs. He runs straight up to the trapdoor into Rys's attic, and yells for Ben to give him a lift. This Ben does, quite easily, and Jason shoves the trapdoor open. He then helps me and Ben up into the attic, and closes the trapdoor again.

Before you start accusing us of being inconsiderate and rude and strange little kids... I want to point out stuff. First of all, what's taken five paragraphs to explain to you slow audience, it took less than ten seconds in real life. We didn't have time to think about helping Rys, who was obviously in some form of pain. Or even asking him if he was ok or not. Or concluding that he actually was in pain.

I mean, once we got over that initial shock of hearing him sound like a cross between a kid at the dentists, Ben's cat and a low growl, and the fact that his skin was changing before our eyes... yes, we may have considered helping him. But then Jason shouted "RUN!" and tore off towards the stairs... and it was kinda contagious.

He sounded dead urgent when he shouted Run, and it's probably right to say that we were more than a small bit scared of what was happening to Rys. Rys is a normal kid. Normal kids quickly become scary kids when they do something really extrodinary, exspecially if it looks painful and out of their control.

So were all up in the attic right, the three of us. and we're still listening to Rys howling downstairs. It's dark in the attic, so I get up and begin searching for the lights. We've been up here before, so I know that there's a lightswitch around here somewere.

But for now, it's pitch black and I'm like tripping over boxes of shit that Rys's family has collected and dumped up here cause they didn't want the garbage man to have any of it. And then the lights go on. I turn around, and see Jason, or more accurately Jason's legs, sticking out of a giant box that he's apparently fallen in.

Furthur around the room, Ben's found the lightswitch. And the howling stops. Like the last throaty howl just dies away... and it don't start up again. It's replaced with a loud crash, but that's just the box tipping over, the one that had Jason in it. Jason crawls backwards out of the box and stands up, shaking dust out of his hair and off his clothes.

From below us, through the attic floor we're standing on, and likely through the floor beneath that... there's another sound, and it sounds so nothing like kids at dentists or Bronchitis or Cookie... It sounds like a wolf, the one that's on the beginning of old westerns that we sometimes watch if there's nothing else on.

Cept this is Australia, right outside Sydney town, on the roadmap in the Sydney street directory that has 'Limit of Maps' written in small print at the top of it. And the closest thing to a wolf we got on the continent even is a dingo, and there's only a few left far in the outback somewhere. Or we got foxes and dogs. But I always thought foxes didn't howl... anyway, how the hell did a fox or dog get inside the house?

"What the hell just happened?" asked Ben. It made sense him asking that, I was just thinking the same thing. But I didn't ask cause there'd be like no one here who could answer. But I was wrong. Jason knew what had happened. he was sitting on his arse on the floor, and he was facing me. I have no idea why, but there were tears forming in his eyes. Probably from the dust.

"Rys's a werewolf guys." he said quietly. My first idea was something like, heheh... right. In a very sarcastic tone. But then it like whacked hard like a well placed kickoff. Rys was a werewolf... that actually made sense. Crazy idea, but it made sense. Rys had been changing.

We knew that, and don't tell me I was imagining things; in the first place, Jason is the one who imagines things and inserts them into real life, not me. I just write about them, and keep the ideas into my head. And no, we weren't drunk, or on drugs, or smoke... we were just being good little kids staying at home and doing nothing.

None of us said anything for a long time, like all of twenty seconds. Well, we're fast paced people us footballers are. And then Jason talked.

"You know guys... Rys is a werewolf... so werewolfs are real. And if they're real... then magic... Harry Potter magic... it might actually be real..." he said. His voice was quavering a little, and he was crying a bit. I still say it's from the dust. One of Jason's dearest wishes was that magic was real. In the silence above, the noise below was enhanced. We could hear, not the Bronchitis-ridden cat and kid, or the crying howl we heard after that. There was a low snarling sound now, more like just a very mean Cookie with bronchitis.

Rys was a werewolf. That was...bizarre. Normal kids that you've known for three years don't just decide to transform into a werewolf one night. Anyway, werewolves aren't real. But then... there was that bite on Rys's shoulder... and we had seen him change... heard him - or something howl...

The realisation hit home, at last. Rys was a werewolf... that was shocking enough in itself. But that paled into insignificance when we considered... if werewolves were real... then so is magic... we could start with _Wingardium Leviosa, _and end up with Cruciatus, or wicked broomsticks... we could be animagi! And we could maybe learn to make ourselves invisiable... Dumbledore had done it, after all.

You're probably thinking something along the line of 'Rys is your friend and he's in pain! Help him!' well, Rys was a werewolf... dictionary definition has danger written all over it in bold red capitals.

or maybe something more like, 'Hang on, you kids could get yourselves into so much shit messing around with magic, you're too young to handle it...' Ok, so we are young. So what? Do you seriously expect us to wait five years for magic? Rys has been bitten now! And show me the fourteen year old that likes to wait!

Or you could be thinking the obvious. 'ok, assuming magic is real, then you guys are muggles or else you would've been admitted to a school like Hogwarts.' Hey, we had just discovered that the fantastical world in J. K. Rowling's imagination (and our own) might just be real. In which case, it would be so criminal to discover something so awesome existed, and not be able to participate in it at all.

A/N: Ok… so how was it? R&R let me know please!


	2. Sectumsempra

Two:

Sectumsempra

We spent that night in the attic, afraid to come down. We had readily accepted the possibility that Rys could be a werewolf, which opened up a vast new world of magic for us. We were so excited, yet sorta dreading that it might just be a cruel dream or something.

Jason was so ready to begin self-learning magic, I reckon he must've stayed up the rest of that night practicing _Wingardium Leviosa._ Swish and flick. Experiminting with the left hand, right hand, one direction, opposite direction... Despite the fact that we didn't have wands, and no one in the Harry Potter books ever did anything without them, Jason still practiced with his hands.

His enthusiasm was catchy, but me and Ben, or at least just me, soon got pretty tired of waving our hands to the symphony of growls and howls and crashes from downstairs, and watching everything remain stubbornly grounded.

I do remember being in the dim lit attic practicing the first magical spell that appeared in the novels, then lying on my side in the attic flooded with early sunlight. In both cases, Jason had been steadily practicing _Wingardium Leviosa. _I'd love to say that after what seemed like a complete night's practice, that Jason had gotten the hang of it. But either he didn't have a wand, or he was simply a muggle. Everything in that attic was in it's normal place, safely on the floor, completely oblivious to Jason's persistant orders to fly.

We stayed in the attic for the next few hours, going down only when Ben's stomach got the better of reasonable thinking. The downstairs room was a mess. It looked like Hurricane Katrina had hit it, cept this wasn't possible cause that hurricane was in America, and hurricanes aren't supposed to hit this part of the world anyway.

Before we went to the kitchen, we searched the place carefully for Rys, or a werewolf that was normally Rys. We knew that werewolves were supposed to be dangerous, so don't call us total idiots for being unarmed.

In the first place, this is Australia... so you can blame the country's laws if us fourteen year olds didn't have any decent weapon past a cricket bat. In the second place, none of us were really sure of how to use a gun... Shut up, we weren't scared, just we didn't see how a gun could help us cause we didn't want to kill anything... yeah.

Why am I even talking about guns... there wasn't even a gun in the house. That I knew about. So... ok, we were armed. Someone had conveniently thrown a collection of solid, wooden, heavy, American baseball bats that were reinforced with metal plates in the attic. No joke. So we kinda helped ourselves to them.

So we're exploring the house right, kinda more difficult than it should've been considering that we had basically lived there most nights of the week since year seven. It looked really strange with broken, torn furniture, and electronic equipment, and flyscreen doors, and family pets... all broken and mutilated.

Ok, so the family pets weren't hurt in anyway, just threw that in there to make it look more dramatic... But if the family pets were injured, they had all been eaten whole or something cause we couldn't find any bit of them anywhere.

The house was more creepy, it was like all quiet, except when the wind whistled, or what was left of a door slammed, or something else... then the house was noisy, and we all shrank against walls and stared around like we were expecting an attacking army of invisable smurfs or something.

So yeah. We were kinda scared, but I reckon that you would be too if it was a quiet, ruined house and there was a dangerous werewolf somewhere around. And you're probably armed with more than a baseball bat. Probably live in the States where they let you have good weapons.

Still, there's only so many times you can explore a wrecked house safely without giving up. So on about the third search of the place, we heard another sound. It was no door or anything, it was clearly Ben's stomach.

Ok, so we were hungry. We gave up the search, assuring ourselves that Rys would probably be Rys again now that it was daylight. And we went and made breakfast. The kitchen bench wasn't ruined, and the cupboards were too high up for anything, or anyone shorter than Ben to reach.

Don't call us irresponsible. We were scared ok. And it really was all Rys's fault we were freaked. And Rys's safety and well-being isn't our responibility anyway. I know we're friends, but when we became friends, we weren't really counting on having to help a rabid werewolf.

So nobody thought of trying to find Rys, or help him out. We figured that Rys had lived here for ages, so he knew his way around, and home, well enough. Actually our main concern was hiding the damaged house from Rys's parents when they came home in two days time.

We were eating breakfast, weetbix with mountains of sugar and honey (only way you can eat those things, they're so yuck without enough flavouring). Jason, again, began waving his hand back and forth... _wing-GAAR-dium levi-OO-sa... _at least he was pronouncing it right.

"Jason, stop it alright." said Ben. I reckon he was pretty annoyed with Jason, hey so was I ok, I won't lie. I reckon that anyone would be annoyed with someone if they insisted on reciting flying charms that didn't work.

"_wing-GAAR-dium levi-OO-sa" _responded Jason. Damit...

I kinda don't know how it happened next. My main guess was that Ben was so annoyed, his annoyance was basically anger by now, and having to eat weetbix (Ben hated weetbix) didn't help nothing either.

And then we had spent the last hour tiptoeing round the house, jumping at small noises... hey, that got kinda stressful after a small time. Anyways, for all these apparent reasons and probably many more, Ben snapped it. He had just told Jason to stop _Wingardium Leviosa-ing_, but no...

"SECTUMSEMPRA!" yelled Ben, throwing his right hand in a kinda straight diagonal movement through the air between himself and Jason. I think he was only doing it to mock Jason, to sorta make the persistant guy see sense and friggin stop reciting the most basic harry potter spell.

So it don't really matter why, or how. Just that it worked. It actually did. Sectumsempra... like a magical sword thingy. So Ben yelled, and this nice, clean diagonly cut appeared on three things: Jason, the wall behind Jason, and that portrait of Rys's old uncle Norman. At first the wall and the portrait wasn't really noticed; the blood spraying out of Jason's cheek was sufficient to hold our attention. Jason swore, and ran off to the bathroom.

Ben's face had gone white, and he was staring at his hand like it was a fragile land-mine or something. But... it had worked. It might've been more considerate to think of Jason and his cut face, but... it had worked...

"Woah" I said, sounding like the kids in those adds for the latest plastic space toy. Still, I was pretty impressed. Jason had been trying the simplest charm all night, no succsess whatsoever, and now Ben just performed a high level curse first go. Maybe poor Jason simply wasn't a wizard...

But me. Maybe I could be a wizard too... I mean, _Wingardium Leviosa _hadn't worked for Ben either... I looked for a target that I could slash up. The loungeroom couch looked ok. Well it didn't, but that was all Rys's fault. No one would notice one extra scratch in it...

Jumping up from the table, I karate-chopped my hand through the air in the general direction of the couch. At the same time, I yelled out the incantation.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

I'd like to say that this massive rip appeared in the couch, one that hadn't been there before, but if you asked Ben he would tell you otherwise and then I'd be caught out lying. So, no massive rip appeared in the couch. A massive rip appeared on nothing. I didn't even make a tiny little scratch on anything.

"Maybe you gotta be annoyed. Get angry at the couch." suggested Ben tentitavly.

So many strange things had happened since last night; up there beside everything else this suggestion sounded pretty logical. I tried to hate the couch. It was kinda hard to do. That couch had never done anything to me, and it looked pretty sad all torn up as it was. Still, I tried. As soon as I thought I was angry enough, I raised my hand up, and swung it back down fast, repeating the incantation.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

A huge, clean, unmistakeable cut broke through the couch, like a really sharp knife had gone through it. Ha ha ha lol. Not. I so wish but, really. Nah, the couch didn't get cut at all. I couldn't do _Sectumsempra _any better than any of us could do _Wingardium Leviosa. _

"Here, move Jason." said Ben. I obliged, and moved. Ben sat there a moment, giving the couch a seriously evil death glare. The intensity of Ben's stare would've made me laugh under normal circumstances, but... now, it weren't really normal circumstances anymore. After he'd had his short moment of staring down the couch, he, without warning or changing his stare at all, just flicked his hand and yelled.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

I stood and stared at the result. This huge tear had appeared in the couch, where there wasn't one before. I looked from the couch, to Ben and back again. Then I looked at Ben again. I was jealous. You can probably understand that.

Well, maybe you can't; maybe you say I should've been there patting him on the back and saying congrats, but no... I'd practiced magic as long as he had; forget Jason, and never did anything... and he just... just... like that. On his second go at that curse, and he got it right both times. No fair.

It was about now that the truth should've been coming to us. The harsh truth, the one that said that Ben was a wizard; he could do magic. And me and Jason were muggles. There was no way on earth that we could perform magic. But I was determined that it wasn't the truth. Jason would probably have agreed. There was something that was wrong with our incantations... in how we pronounced, waved, gestured... none of us would accept the fact that we simply couldn't do magic.

Hey, I'm calling it a fact, the truth, like Jason and I can't do magic... Well, for now we couldn't. So what did we do? We kept on trying. Well, not quite yet. I'm still getting over Ben's sucsess, and Jason's still washing blood off, or out of, his face.


End file.
